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So sad, so mad
Couriers didn't get a whole lot of down time. Their jobs, after all, involved a lot of moving, taking things to and from a bunch of places, and generally just following directions and not being lazy slobs. But once in a while, they did get a good few minutes just to breathe, sleep, and charge up. It's during one of these rare moments of not-working that Backdrop can be found in, of all places, the Rust Narrows. Old stomping grounds, to those in the know. To those not in the know, all they'll see is a slightly-too-shiny-for-these-parts tiny racer mech, sitting on a curb and looking very, very sadly at a fairly large piece of metal in his hands. As it so happens, one who knows the hectic nature of a courier's work load is nearby, and getting ever closer. The little vehicle that really does not exactly scream 'courier' as it trundles along the road at an easy and consistent pace. That is, until a particularily shiner-than-his-surroundings mech is spotted sitting on a curb. The four-wheeler pulls over and transformers. "Oy. Spritzdrop." A startled set of optics look up at the mashup of names old and new. Backdrop blinks widely at Swivel. He opens his mouth to say something, but then just sputters like a fish out of water. Wait, is that A SEVERED HAND he's holding? A hand with... Those little fuzzy cleaning bristles? NOT THE CLEANING BRISTLES! It doesn't take long for Swivel to recognise that little hand, and she goes from that happy-to-see-you expression to a very, very sad and sympathetic one. She doesn't say anything, but rather just plunks herself down on the crub beside the little mech, slinging an arm about his sad little shoulders. Poor little Backdrop doesn't seem to know how to process the severed limb. He just holds it, shaking a little bit. "I found it in the trash." He manages to squeak out. Speaking of too-shiny-for-these-parts, a mech that has trundled into the area is...well, still in the area. Paddles is walking along, slowly taking in sights and sounds as he goes. Lots of things to see. Lots of things to learn. But, well, oh...there's a familiar face. He shifts his gaze towards Swivel, his feet following shortly after as he makes his way over. Nope, nothing to say right now. Not at first. He takes a moment to sort of process things. A severed limb? Hmm. A somber look shared. Not anger...good, good. He nods to both mechs present. "Hello again." The little mech, holding the severed and discarded limb of one of his kin from another life, gets a side-hug-squeeze from the femme. The sensory feedback of his trembling makes her shudder a little bit, as she considers the continued hardships ahead both of them. She then reaches across with her other hand and places it over the severed hand. She just... stares at Backdrop, not finding words, but just willing all of the tumtultuous feelings and desire to comfort to shine through her demeanor. It is a moment before the small femme glances up at the mech she'd encountered at the disused stadium. Her expression is mournful, but she otherwise hazards a small smile and inclines her head in greeting, but does not offer a verbal response. Another startled look is aimed up as Paddles greets them. He blinks widely before slowly looking to Swivel. "Is... Is he a friend?" A whisper. The severed hand is covered up a little with both of his own. Trying to hide it from view, maybe. Paddles looks between the two, but his optics return to Swivel. There's that momentary pause, again, as he just makes sure everything is put together the way it should be in his head before speaking. Nothing about the severed hand, mind. No, he's still working that one out in his head. But the expression from the slamm feme is a bit more clear, and easier to read. "Is everything alright?" Now, that is a question not entirely easy to answer. After all, it is obvious from her body language and expression that, no, it is not alright. But explaining why is a bit trickier, as it may reveal things best left unrevealed. Swivel looks over at Backdrop, curling in her ips, and that telltale expression of sorting out an inner conflict dominates her visage. "E's... I jus' met 'im th'once, but 'e seems okay," she whispers back. Swivel peers up at Paddles, a much sadder, and perhaps more believable, vision before him. "No." It's a simple answer, and she refrains from quantifying or elaborating. Considering the femme is something of a gabby-gob, this is a great feat in restraint. Backdrop is still shaking a little. In fact, it looks like he's been shaking for some time and probably won't stop any time soon. He leans in to Swivel a little as he covers up the severed hand in both of his own. "It's okay..." He looks like the very definition of grief, though. "Just... Just... It's okay, sir. It's not... Important." Paddles frowns as he listens. Swivel's lack of things to say certainly does not match what he experienced last time, and the overall attitude and demeanor of the two is enough to debunk the notion that whatever is taking place is unimportant. He just nods all the same, taking a seat beside Swivel, opposite Backdrop. Close enough that, well, anyone might infer it's a group. Not close enough to encroach. "I see." He leaves it at that and just nods curtly, looking towards Backdrop. New face... time to learn and memorize that one. "I am called Paddles." Swivel idly watches Paddles take a seat with them. It's odd, but she is suddenly reminded of the first time she met Whirl and Panacea. Three people sitting on a curb, one lamenting something or other. Abeit, Backdrop is far more stable, less drunk, and definitely more adorable. Also, her face isn't smushed against the street. Outwardly, Swivel shows very little response to Paddle's joining their sad little group. She more or less is carefully watching Backdrop's reactions. "I'm... Backdrop." That is one sizable pause, though, and he stares at the hand while he says it. "I'm Backdrop." He seems very hesitant to look at Paddles or talk too loudly. Paddles looks towards the hand again. "And that was a friend?" He doesn't outright blurt it. Sure, there's no hesitation, but the tone is at least on the kinder side of the spectrum, hinting at the underlying understanding about what is taking place. "This place seems to be visited by undeserved tragedy far too frequently." Indeed. Three solar-cycles. Two known deaths. "You have my sympathies." Paddles' kind words have either the entirely appropriate or entirely wrong effect on Backdrop. Honestly, it depends who you ask. The little racer mech almost immediately starts to sob. Quietly, mind, but he's hiccuping and shaking worse, now. Swivel is leaned against for full support. The hand covering the severed limb falls a little to the side. She may not be large in body, but Swivel offers all of the support her tiny frame can. She wraps both of her arms about him in a full embrace, holding him very firmly, her arms and chest feeling the shaking of his entire body. She squeezes him tighter as if if she could stop the shaking, she could somehow pause the emotional pain. After some silence Swivel's purple optics are drawn to Paddles again. "Tragedy... yeah... y'avn't been 'ere long, else ya'd realise... this is kinner th'norm. Not tha I'l ever get used t'it. I dun wanna get 'used' to it." Paddles shakes his head. "I don't recommend getting used to it. Otherwise, the importance of those lost is forgotten." He narrows his optics for a moment in thought. He reaches over, after a moment of silent contemplation, to just pat Backdrop on the shoulder. He only has to reach over Swivel to do so...it's not that far of a stretch, now, is it? "The longer I remain here, the more I am convinced that I should stay." He shakes his head slowly and leaves further thoughts unsaid. Not worth going further, not right now. "What was their name?" Maybe he's asking Backdrop. Or, maybe, considering the sobbing mech's state, he's asking Swivel. Either way, he leaves it open for either to respond. Backdrop actually pulls himself up long enough to look at the hand again. Pink and light green paint flake off of it. "Th... There were a few guys with this paint job." He's hiccuping again. "Only five, though." He's possibly forgotten that he has no idea who Paddles is. He might even be A GOVERNMENT SPY. Hey, Backdrop has no idea. "...I only found a hand..." For moment or two, Swivel spends some time evaluating Paddles. Finally she exvents a small sigh. "No name... just a serial number. An' tha's not found on th'and. It's...." Swivel shakes her head. "Th'and belonged to a YX-unit..." Swivel says, as if that explains a whole lot of something. Paddles nods slowly. "I see. Again, you have my sympathies." He turns his optics towards the arm and thinks for a good moment or two. "What about the other four? Have they become victims in the same manner?" So, maybe news does not travel so well underwater. Somehow, Paddles' question only makes Backdrop weep worse. He's actually curling up around the severed limb, now. The safe answer might be a 'yes'. Swivel gently pulls Backdrop closer to herself, guiding him so that he may rest his head upon her thigh, while he recoils and curls himself around the arm of a fallen brother. For, truly, they were like a big family. The teasing was evidence of that. Had there been en empath present, they would be witnessing an overwhelming surge of love and compassion. As it is, there are only those subtle vibrations emotions and intentions sometimes put out, and rarely are received and understood by others. "I guess ya really ent been 'ere long," Swivel says in a low tone. "All YX-units were recalled... and there were 'undreds, mebbe iffin thousands of 'em... 'n they weren't drones. They was individuals..." Paddles emits a soft growl and shakes his head. "Recalled." He makes a note to give that proper thought and research later. He catches himself falling on the more aggressive side of his personality and stops, his expression softening once again and glancing at the other two to make sure there were no adverse reactions. Or, at least they weren't running off scared. No, nothing to say... he sighs softly. "There were sixty thousand of us." Backdrop is still crying, though now his voice is muffled by a mix of his own limbs and Swivel. Poor Swivel is getting all of the leanings. "Sixty thousand. The news... I heard on the news, they said less than fifty of us made it..." And almost fifty could have made it if Swivel were a better hero.... at least, this is a thought that weighs heavy on her conscience. A troubled expression, different from the earlier saddened expression, crosses the femme's face. She looks down, and begins to stroke Backdrop along his upper arm, while her other hand seeks out one of his to give it a comforting squeeze, and be there to be squeezed in those moments when the emotional pain surges to a point it is physically wrenching. "Even now... dunno 'ow many of 'em forty or so are still alive. They's 'idin' fer their lives, coz their's payment fer bringin 'em in. I got ta know summ'em, iffin though they was 'sposables. Some 'em iffn were loik, I 'unno.... more 'en friends.... kinner loik... unm... wo's th'word... brothers?" Although Swivel is explaining this to Paddles, whose growling did not seem to distress her in the least, her gaze is focused on Backdrop. Paddles takes everything in and just growls again. "Well, I will make sure to keep that in mind." He studies the hand again, mainly the color scheme present on it, and certainly takes his time to dedicate it to memory. "I am sorry, again, if my questions are coming at a bad time." Backdrop shakes his head a little quickly; his hiccups subside for a moment. "N-No. No, it's okay. All the time is a bad time, these days..." The hand is clutched close. "It was my fault everything happened." Swivel furrows her optic ridges and looks down at Backdrop. "No. I wun letcha take th'blame. Not all'it, 'enway. If I wun payin' such attnetion t'ya, Blurr proly woona either, 'n then they woona put 'em cameras in yer optics. 'E claimed 'e chose ya fer that 'coz 'en they'd never kill you - you'd be too valuable. It's 'is twisted way o' bein' 'elpful... prollem is I think Blurr loiks me." Actually, she knows he likes her. He sort of said it himself. All of this is probably rather confusing for the Plesioformer, but Swivel hardly seems concerned about that right now. "If it's yer fult, it's my fault too, 'n Blurr's, 'n the IAA, 'n the Senate..." Paddles lets out a soft huff and nods. "If you say so." He looks between the two beside him and just nods to himself. He might not show it, or be a little slow on the uptake, but he's got some intuition about him, and he's no stranger to things like this...these...those. Whatever it may be. But things to say escape him for the time being, so he just falls into silence as he processes everything. There's another quick shake of his head at Swivel's words. "No, I told them to go spy. I told them! The optic thing... I don't even know what that was about, but I TOLD them to go in and now they're all dead...!" Swivel curls in her lips, and calmly resists the urge to shake such self-indulgent misery out of Backdrop. Instead she continues stroking him gently, and speaks very quietly, almost a whisper. "O'Rod put the idea in yer 'ead. If yer gunna blame yerself, 'least share sommer it on O'Rod. Don't be selfish with the blame." Swivel pauses in her stroking and just rests her hand on his upper arm. The femme looks up at Paddles silently, but shrugs one shoulder and gives a brief half smile, as if expressing gratitude for his sympathy. Paddles blinks. That name. He knows that name... He mutters softly to himself, 'Rod'... thoughtful, but, well, the thoughts are unspoken. He looks back at the two and returns Swivel's look before simply nodding slowly. "Is there anything I can do to help? It might be a little late to ask, but...still. Backdrop shakes his head a little more, but is still shaking and generally Highly Emotional. "N-No. Thank you, sir, but... I don't even know what to do. I know a few of the others got away, but I don't even know where they are, now..." He starts to uncurl himself, but is still leaning against Swivel. "I miss them all so much." "Me too," Swivel says. "But... I ent iffin gunna pretend loik I miss 'em as much as ya..." Swivel had began to sump, but upon realising this, she straightens her back It was almost as though she were leaning forward to shelter Backdrop from some unseen threat. But as he begins to uncurl a little, Swivel also responds with a subconscious change in posture. The femme is very responsive to the mech. "I wish I knew wot t'do.... but al I kin do is share m'opes fer a better future..." Swivel has tried 'helping' that future along, and felt she just rather made matters worse. And even that was only after a lot of coaxing and mitigating circumstances. There is something helpeless and vulnerable about the femme as she lays her emotions out around her - almost as if by making herself exposed she could somehow deflect the evil eye away from her friend. Paddles pushes himself to his feet to stretch, taking a moment to look up and down the street. "I have heard that name before. Hot Rod, correct?" He gives Swivel a very level gaze. "He is trouble?" "He's... Hot Rod is a good mech." Backdrop almost whispers it; he's staring at the severed hand in his own, though. "He has good intentions, I think. He... I shouldn't've told the others to go in..." There's one person in the world who neither Backdrop nor Swivel probably want to see right now. Especially since the thing they are grieving over was more or less caused by him. Yep, Blurr is suddenly standing over Swivel and Backdrop as the former cleaner bot lies curled up in a sad little ball. "Swivel!" he greets cheerfully, despite their last encounter. "Well -you're- looking good!" He teases, because she totally looks good because of -him-. Glancing down at Backdrop, his optics light up with recognition. "Oh, you're that courier I saw at the party, right? Sorry, I forgot your name." Paddles also receives a glance. "Don't -think- I've met you before. But then again, I meet a lot of people." "Er...." Swivel looks very uncomofrtable, realising perhaps she was unfairly misrepresenting Hot Rod. There is almost an ashamed look on the femme's face, but she doesn't look away. She just sits there with the discomofrt, slowly nodding her agreement to Backdrop's words. "E' means well... but e' dun look very far a'ead when 'e is playin' th'ero. 'E wants freedom 'n equality fer everyone, 'n while tha's a noice dream... 'e goes inter it guns blazin' an in't always thinkin' 'bout the peeps gettin' caught in the crossfire. An' 'e ent to fond o' fence sitters loik m'self." Swivel sighs. At this point, Blurr was in hearing range, but she was completely unaware. " I refuse t'join 'is rebellion." Speak of the devil and he will appear. When Swivel hears Blurr's voice, she looks up startled. She also fights the urge to push poor Backdrop away, almost as if it would give Backdrop's identity away. But she manages to just remain with the mech leaned against her, a hand rested on his arm. After all, just continuing as she had been was far less suspicious. And the two knowing each other was not strange since they both were couriers. Instead Swivel just casually shifts her arm to cover the severed hand that Backdrop was clutching. "Shockin' as always, Blurr." Backdrop screams. It's a sound of terror, really, as he actually falls forward and away from Blurr. Somehow, he manages to trip while doing so and fall backwards over Swivel's lap. The back of his head hits the floor. Honestly, a fall like that probably takes talent. The severed hand is being covered by Swivel, but barely. Backdrop flounders a little and tries to stealthily sneak the hand in to subspace under the guise of just getting back up. Did Blurr see it? He hoped not! "Y-Y-You st-startled me, s-sir!" With any luck, he'll come across as just Highly Nervous to the blue racer. Paddles turns to regard Blurr, his optics flickering a moment in thought as he processes things. The cheery nature of things on Blurr's side is rather, well, offending considering things. Though, Backdrop's sudden scream kicks him into gear, and the mech is advancing on the speedy mech, that soft growl rising... Right up until Backdrop claims Blurr only startled him. He looks back briefly at Backdrop as though to confirm things do not need to be escalated any further, including Swivel in that curious glance just in case there's any input from her worth acting on. Well...no, her rather calm reaction is a good sign that he can stand down. He just doesn't quite remove himself from interjecting a nice barrier of primordial mech between the two parties. Blurr jumps himself when Backdrop screams, stumbling backward a bit. "Whoa!" He laughs, staring at the fearful mech. "Hey, nothing to be afraid of pal! Remember we met in Ibex. And I thought -I- was easily startled." The racer laughs. If he did spot the severed hand, he hasn't acknowledged it. And then Paddles looks like he's about to attack. The speedster throws his hands in the air defensively. "Primus, what's -your- problem? I just said I hadn't met you before." He peers at Swivel. "So you know these bots or what?" Swivel never thought it would be so difficult to laugh, but she manages to pull it off. She helps Backdrop straighten himself out, but does not rise to her feet. And she also doesn't seem bothered about being tripped over or fallen over. Actually, she's used to being underfoot, but not usually by mechs around her own size. Why laugh? To try and break the tension and signal others to do the same. "Erm, yeah. Backdrop's oner our new couriers, still learnin' 'is way 'round, but we're becomin' good pals," she explains in a friendly introduction, although Blurr already claims to have met him. Swivel then tilts her head upwards, towards Paddles. "'N this mech, I think e's new t'these parts. Dun seem t'know the local news're gossip, been fillin' 'im in on some stuff." Swivel glances over at Backdrop, hoping that he can recover some of his composure. "Wot brings ya t'a dingy place loik this? If ya wunt so fast I'd say you was lookin' fer a muggin'. Er, not that I'd really be in th'best sorter place ta be sayin' so as I's in th'same boat, lookin' all fangled 'n shoiny. I dinna getter chance t'thank ya fer the outfittin'." Oh. So THAT is who paid for her pretty new paint. She'd sort of avoided mentioning who her benefactor was. Okay. Things JUST might get a little bit complicated. Backdrop shakily gets back to his feet. His entire body is quaking, really. "S-Sorry, sir. W-we weren't expecting s-someone like... You... Here." He looks a little more nervous, now. "...S-sorry, I guess now y-you know why I'm not a racer like you, huh?" A cracked, forced little smile. Which quickly vanishes as Swivel talks. "YOU paid for her paint job?" SUCH SCANDAL. Familiarity on the part of the other two seems to be what calms him down over Blurr's own reaction. Paddles seems to calm down and steps to the side, giving Blurr a pleasant enough of a smile. "Apologies. I've seen a few, uh...instances where the locals were victimized. I am called Paddles." Yes. Laugh at the name all you want because it makes little sense. He falls in alongside, if not slightly behind, Swivel, taking a moment to scan the area again. "Paddles, uh, nice to meet you." Blurr stifles a chuckle at the name, it is a bit silly but he's probably heard worse before. "It's okay, I mean, I guess I can get the jump on people pretty easily." He nods at Swivel's thanks. "You're welcome, and I just happened to be passing through so I thought I'd stop in and check on you. You were uh, kind of...I don't know, messed up the last time I saw you? I'm not too sure what happened, but you definitely weren't okay." he frowns at her eyepatch. "Uh, wait didn't they replace your optic? I thought I paid for that." Swivel's hand goes to her eyepatch. She had almost forgotten about the patch. "Oh... it was replaced, yeah... but I kinner ran tiner some trouble with, uh, Starscream, ya see.... 'n I think e's gotter some sorter rivalry with Pharma... 'n guess 'oo installed th'optic?" Swivel rubs the back of her neck. "I really dun wanner say much more 'bout that..." She glances over to Backdrop very uneasily. Oh, there will be some explaining to do. But for now... "So's, wellum.... thanks fer talkin' t'me 'bout all th'friends I lost... 'n bein' a sympathetic audial... but I shoo letcha get back t'work." Swivel would wink, but that jsut wasn't subtle enough. She just hopes to Primus that Backdrop picks up her cues and goes obediently. Swivel is beginning to wonder when she became so subversive. She doesn't like it. For a moment, Backdrop just stands there awkwardly. He has an expression that's somewhere between terror and jealousy. It might just make him look like he has something stuck up a pipe, really. "...Yeah. Y-Yeah. Nice... Yeah." He looks between Swivel and Blurr again, but starts to back away. Paddles looks back at Backdrop as he starts to wander away and frowns faintly. "If you ever require anything, do find me." He gives him a polite smile and looks back at Swivel and Blurr, just listening to the exchange regarding eyepatches and Starscream. Another name that's familiar, but he has not really cared enough about to look into. "Uh...?" Blurr looks confused. "So, what does that have to do with the patch? I mean, did Starscream put it there? Do you need me to get it off for you?" He starts pick at it, if she lets him. The racer peers at Backdrop. "You okay, mech? I mean are you sure? You can hang with us." he smiles. Blurr's words actually cause Backdrop to stop. He turns, still looking a little ODD. Maybe his previous emotional state does not give him the best frame of mind right now. "I... What?" He sputters. "What?" He looks INCREDIBLY confused. Backdrop is back to looking incredibly awkward, at least. "I said you can hang out with us." Blurr laughs, having no idea why Backdrop is acting so flabberghasted. "You sure you're okay? Maybe you should look into getting an examination from a medic." "...Maybe." Backdrop manages to sputter. "...S-sir, you know we're... Low caste, right?" So confused. So much confusion. WHilst Swivel doesn't slap Blurr's hand, tempting as it may be, she does just slightly turns her head away. "Oy now it's screwed in place ya'll 'urt me!" Swivel sighs. Perhaps honesty is the best policy. Swivel's shoulders sag. "See, I dun trust Starscream, but I get 'long fine with Thundercracker, 'n ya see, I was talkin' t'the one 'en th'other showed up, 'n some'ow Pharma came up, 'n 'e got all wiggy 'bout th'name, 'n I said Pharma's good people 'e fixed me optic, 'n Starscream jumped back kinner loik I sudden' turned inter some sorter primordial sparkeater - kinner was funny actually... but um, as I was sayin', 'e freaked out 'n said I was puttin' 'im an' Thundercracker in danger 'coz m'optic coo be bugged... an' yeah it jus' went down'ill from 'ere." Swivel frowns. She then shrugs her shoulders. She looks over at Backdrop, who just looks absolutely like he might have a panic attack and fall over... kind of like she did the last time she spoke with Blurr. "Er... as fer wot was wrong, I was sufferin' chronic recharge deprivation 'n my systems were a mess." Paddles looks back at Backdrop and the stunned silence from the mech. Or...confusion over whatever is happening. His offer is still there, though. Nothing more to say on that. He looks back to Blurr and Swivel. "The same goes for you two. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask, and I will do what I can." He nods curtly and looks at Blurr. Higher caste? Hmm. Well, that is certainly interesting. Blurr laughs again and nods at Backdrop's question. "Yeah, and I don't -care-!" He pats the smaller mech on the head, and turns back to Swivel, drawing his hand away when she warns he might hurt her. "Oooh, I see. Well if you ask me, you're just making yourself suffer for no reason. Don't trust Starscream, he's up to no good. If there's one thing that's for sure in this crazy universe it's that if Starscream is trying to convince you of something, then he's trying to manipulate you into being a pawn for whatever plan he might have up his tailpipes. Pharma is a good doctor, I mean you can just ask -anyone- on the street, they'll tell you!" The racer assures her with a smile. "Starscream must have some kind of vendetta against him. Besides, you were repaired at the Decagon, it's not like there's going to be more risk that he did something to your optic than anything -else- on you!" Backdrop continues to stand there in absolutely gobsmacked confusion. He is the epitome of 'awkward'. He literally has no idea how to react to being pat on the head by Blurr. So, he just... Stands there. Confused. Conflicted. Still with that expression on his face of having something stuck where that something aught not be. Paddles turns to leave. "I am going to look around some more. Look for some things." He pats Swivel on the shoulder in passing. "Call me if you need anything." He starts to tromp his way down the street. Nope. No alt-mode here. It wouldn't work... Not at all. Backdrop jumps again at the beepbeepbeep. Is that a... Commlink device? From his subspace? Do they even MAKE those anymore? It doesn't even have a color screen, just... A little black and white thing going on. How old IS that thing? "...I have to go." He looks so relieved. "I have a job. I, uh... I have to go." With that, he starts to backtrack REALLY FAST. Swivel nods to Paddles, and smiles at the shoulder pat. "Kay... thanks," Swivel says. "I will..." There is a soft scoff from Swivel. "I dun trust Starscream far as I coo throw 'im, 'n I loik Pharma's berthside manner. But... if I din wear th'patch e'd prolly do somethin' worse 'en put a patch o'er m'optic entime I was 'round THundercracker. Thundercracker 'ent loik Starscream. E's saved me several times." Swivel watches as Backdrop goes. Blurr shrugs. "Well there's no way he could know for sure if it were bugged or not right? Just tell him you had it checked or something. Come on, he's not worth having to walk around with a one optic vision field all the time. You're not obligated to listen to him." There is a long pause from Swivel. "I... never thought 'bout jus tellin' 'im it's a different optic.... guess coz e's so much smarter 'en me I jus figured 'e'd know... yanno? I mean, I 'ent totally stupid, but I know 'en I'm outter my league..." Swivel glances about herself, almost as if suddenly realising she's alone with Blurr. Again. And she will have a heck of a time explaining things to Backdrop. "She has omnispectral sensors." Blurr replies fondly, as he thinks of her. "It's pretty amazing, really." There's a pause as he sort of gazes off for a moment, thinking of her, before he looks back at Swivel. "So you need me to help you get that thing off then?" "Yeah, she's my conjunx." Blurr responds, smiling almost dreamily again. "She's...beautiful." "Anyway." Back to the present. "Hey, I wouldn't rip it off, I was just going to help you unscrew it. Fine, never mind." he laughs. "If you have someone you know who can do a better job, I guess." "Um... BLurr.... um.... er..." Swivel begins to twiddle her thumbs glancing about awkwardly. "Encha jus' a bit too young ter 'ave a conjux? I was told not ta iffin consider tha' till I was 'least 100..." Swivel has all the signs of someone partially confused, partially concerned, and partially hoping not to create offense. Blurr stares blankly at her. He really had no idea. "Really? There's some kind of age limit on it?" He never heard about -that-! "I didn't know that." The speedster laughs. "Oh well, too late now!" he jokes. Swivel tilts her head to the other side. It's a good thing the femme doesn't really have experience with interfacing, beyond downloading to a memory stick, otherwise she'd probably ask some very awkward questions. But they never cross her mind. Instead she laughs a little bit and says, "Wellum, I'm only a few 'undred meself, but mebbe they changed wot they teach in PPS bout that sorter thin'. It's not loik once yer outter primary programmin' school y'ever 'ave ta go back... so ya never know 'en they change it up, yanno?" "Yeah, guess so." Blurr nods, then lower his voice and leans in a little bit. "But I'll tell you a secret," he whispers. "...I never went to PPS. You see, I kind of spent the first few metacycles of my life stuck in an isolation block. I never even -saw- another person until I was...like three or so." He shrugs. "The IAA taught me what they thought I needed to know. The rest kinda...was left out." Perhaps there would be some that would consider Blurr lucky - sure what is three years of isolation if you'd never known better, and especially in the scope of beings that could live millions of years? But he got to skip PPS. But Swivel looks shocked, even a little horrified. "Ya missed out on so much!" Swivel exclaims. "I mean, ya din jus' get taught stuff, but also gettin' socialised fresh forged is s'posed t'be good fer yer processor 'n yer spark... or mebbe that's been debunked." Swivel looks at Blurr for a long quiet time. "Three years alone dun sound real fun... iffn ya din know better, it seems kinner.... lonely. D'ya ever fear goin' back inter an isolation block?" "Well..." Blurr looks thoughtful. "Yeah, it was lonely. Mostly that it was -boring-." he chuckles. "Not a lot to do when you're stuck in one room for that long. Yeah, I mean, we're supposed to socialize, but I don't think I would have been able to. It was hard for me to stay focused on any one thing for more than a few breems. And people probably would've had a really hard time understanding anything I tried to say." Little pieces are coming together, and yet, they still don't quite fit. "Oh... so when ya start talkin' real fast, tha's... uh... mmmm..." Swivel folds her arms over her chest. "I mean, ya do sometimes, but I dun 'ave much trouble unnerstandin' ya. I actually kinner think its cute." Swivel offers up a big Swivel smile. "But 'en, sometimes I kin be a bit 'ard t'follow, so's mebbe I jus gother patience ta try." "Yeah..." Blurr chuckles. "My mind was just all over the place, couldn't even think about one thing at a time. Still can't, really, but now I can at least -look- like I'm focused." He shakes his head. "Anyway, that was the reason they kept me locked up, I couldn't have functioned normally in society anyway." There is a moment of heavy thinking going on for Swivel. It's that frustrating moment where you think you've almost discovered something or figured it out, but you aren't quite there yet. Like an echo of an epiphany. A word on the tip of one's tongue. A sneeze that just won't come and tickles your nose for hours. "Wot changed so's ya coo finally leave isolation? 'Ad ya jus... wore out yer lack o' attention with nuthin' ta put yer mind to?" "Oh, I eventually learned how to act normal." Blurr replies. "A....therapist taught me everything." He looks away at this, as if regretful of something. Not the learning part, but perhaps a sore spot with a certain person whose name he'd neglected to mention. "Weird.... seems kinner strange, yanno? I mean, why make summun 'oo coona function in society? I mean, we all gots our talents t'offer, 'n usually folk dun need therapy 'til they've 'ad some 'speriences tha'd turn 'em a bit cooky.... but requirin' that nas a newspark? It kinner puts th'ole functionism thing off its rails, if yanno wot..." Swivel suddenly goes quiet, as if something had dawned on her. She pauses and studies Blurr for a moment. "I guess ya dun really wanner talk 'bout it... but... ather same time, ya woona mention it if ya dinna wanner talk about it... so's mebbe ya wanner talk about it? Or mebbe yer bringing it up coz ya wanner get yerself ready t'talk 'bout it, but y'ent ready jus yet... and... uh... I'm makin' a big ol' mess outter all this, ent I? Always tryna figger out wot I'm s'posed ta do in these sorter delicate situations 'n blunderin' through 'em, eh heh heh heh.... oh mebbe I shooder shut me vocoder a while ago an' now I'm just babblin...." Blurr laughs. "Oh no, they didn't -intend- to make me like that, of course. They just wanted to create the perfect racer, someone whose mind could keep up with his body. It's just that, well, there were things they hadn't accounted for, I guess. It definitely wasn't expected at all." He sighs then, his face sobering a bit. "NoI--I'drathernot. It's complicated. I was just trying to answer your question without...burdening you." "I'd better go, anyway. I'm sure you have your own, uh, life to get back to." He smiles again. "Keep that paintjob shiny, okay?" FWIP. Off he goes.